


My Freckled Angel

by wingsofneko



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Character Death, Fluff and Angst, Graphic Description, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 09:29:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28526238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingsofneko/pseuds/wingsofneko
Summary: !!! TW - Minor Character Death, Graphic Description, Extreme Sadness !!!-To not have his angel right there next to him was torture to his soul.The whole world had vanished for him. Now there was only pain enough to break him, pain enough to change him beyond recognition. That could be perhaps his reasoning for joining the scouts.Because he knew his freckled angel would have joined him too.
Relationships: Marco Bott/Jean Kirstein
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	My Freckled Angel

**Author's Note:**

> Hiii, this is my first fic so I decided to do it on the precious angel Marco (RIP you will always be missed) and the horse face (sorry not sorry) Jean.  
> Major angst so you might want to get your tissues T-T 
> 
> Anyway I hope you enjoy!! If there's any recommendations or any sort of fic you want me to write then I'm open to anything!

He was empty. Completely empty. Nothing could change the sight of what he saw that day. The day when everything changed.

The freckled angel. Also known as the man who could calm anyone down with that smile of his, Marco Bott. 

Jean Kirstein knew he had it bad from the first time he saw him. Everything about him was perfect. From the way he walked, the way he styled his hair, to the way he talked to everyone as if they were his friend. Not even the Keith Shadis could dull that smile of his.  
“What the hell is wrong with your face, you smiling idiot?!”  
“Marco Bott from Jinae, in Wall Rose’s Southern District sir. I came to join the Military Police Brigade and pledge myself to the King!”  
“Is that so? Good man. A noble objective. But remember: the King doesn’t want you!”

Even when everything seemed like it was crumbling, when there seemed to be no hope, Marco would always stay positive. He would always find comforting things to say,  
“I mean… most humans are weak, including me… but if I got an order from someone who saw things as I do… no matter how tough it was, I’d do my damnedest to carry it out.” 

The best days of Jean’s life was when he was alive, even if it was for a brief time before the world decided to be so cruel and rip his only source of happiness from him. Never to be reached again. Never to hold ever again. Never to have that constant reassurance that everything was going to be fine. Never again to wake up and see the sunshine of a soldier that Marco was. 

That scene replayed in his head, each one more gruesome than the last. He couldn’t get the image out of his head. No matter how hard he tried. No matter how many sleepless nights he would stay up. Nothing would work.

“M-Marco…. Is that you…?” 

The said soldier lay lifeless in a pool of blood, propped up against the remains of what used to be a house, his once bright facial features dulled, not to mention half of his face had been torn off, the ragged edges of his skin spilling blood all over the battlefield. His internal organs were now no longer intact and had been spewed on the sides of the walls and the floor. His once pristine cadet uniform he took so much pride in was stained crimson red with the colour of blood.  
Jean crouched down next to his friend, his angel. Tears threatening to spill from his eyes at any moment. The pain he was feeling was unbearable, it was unreal. His heart felt as if it was going to shatter at any moment. Grasping the freckled man’s hand in his own, he sat there for what seemed like years, refusing to let go of the ice-cold hand of his one happiness in life. 

“What happened...?” 

He would relive that nightmare every time he closed his eyes. Even if it was for a moment, the memories all came flooding in at once. He wasn’t the same anymore. Of course, he wouldn’t be, how could he be when the only light of his life had left him alone in this cruel world? 

Everyone had noticed the change too. Jean would never talk as much as he used to, he would always skip dinner claiming he “wasn’t hungry” or that he had a big breakfast. Even Eren was getting worried now. Even though Jean would insist he was fine or just having a “bad day” smiling as he walked away, the others could see right through that act of his. 

For days and days after the incident, Jean would cry and sob as if his brain was being shredded from the inside. When he passed away, he cried more violent than any titan scream.

Clutching at Eren’s cadet uniform, he kept repeating the same words over again. “why… why does the world have to be so cruel…. Why…. Why?!” The only sort of comfort that Eren could offer the light-brown haired male was rubbing circles on his back, reassuring him that the pain would pass, as his uniform was soaked with the tears of the broken soldier. 

Not to have his angel right there next to him was torture to his soul.  
From his mouth came a cry so raw that even the eyes of strangers who had only talked to the freckled male once were suddenly wet with tears. He didn’t break quietly. He was traumatized that he had to exist without him. 

The whole world had vanished for him. Now there was only pain enough to break him, pain enough to change him beyond recognition. That could be perhaps his reasoning for joining the scouts. 

Because he knew his freckled angel would have joined him too.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading!  
> Please let me know what you thought of this, any sort of criticism is encouraged just be nice (please).


End file.
